Long Way Home (25 page)

“You did not,” she insisted with a shy smile. “I didn’t even remember your name at that point.”

“Didn’t matter. The second I saw you I knew Fate had brought you back to me, right where you belong.”

“Guess I took the long way home, huh?”

He slid a hand down her side and she shivered. “Doesn’t matter. You’re here now and that’s what counts.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “I love you, Tyler. I really do.”

“Then marry me,” he said. “I want to make up for lost time.”

“Marry you?” Her hazel eyes shone with happy tears. “Are you sure?”

“Alexis, I’ve had seventeen years to mull it over. You bet I’m sure.”

“Then Tyler Barnes, I would love to marry you.” She held his gorgeous face in her hands and kissed him.

“The Blue Heron is perfect for weddings or we could do it at the beach, whatever you want.”

“The Blue Heron is perfect. I’ll even wear white flip-flops.”

“Hey everyone,” Tyler called out. “Guess what? The most beautiful woman in the world has agreed to marry me.”

A round of applause broke out as Tyler gave them a triumphant wave.

“We’ll need a ring bearer,” he said. “You think Owen’s up for the job?”

Alexis nodded. “He’d probably officiate the ceremony if we let him. Joey and Brian could be ushers.”

He stood up and grabbed her hands. “I’ll need to call Craig. A guy needs a best man. And you’ll need a maid of honor.”

“Betsy, of course.”

“I’ll write you the most beautiful wedding song you’ve ever heard,” he declared. “And we can get our wedding rings from Earl.”

“Earl Simpkin still has his jewelry store?” she asked with surprise.

“He owes me one, too.”

“Exactly how many free drinks do you give away?” she teased.

“I helped him write a love song for his wife.”

“His wife? Isn’t Earl like seventy years old?” She conjured up an image of Earl with his white tufts of hair sprouting in places no hair should sprout. He’d seemed old to her even in her teen years.

“His second wife, Paulette. She’s a peach.”

“Then Earl Simpkin Jewelry it is.”

“Pack your bags, my love. I don’t want to miss another second of your life.”

Alexis felt overwhelmed with emotion. Tyler quickly kissed away the tears that dampened her cheeks.

“I want you to be happy,” he told her.

“I am happy, Tyler. Happier than I ever thought possible.” She pressed her lips to his one more time before pulling herself together. “I’ll meet you at your house,” she paused and smiled, “I mean our house, later tonight. There are a few things I need to do first.”

She practically ran out the door; she couldn’t wait to get back to him. The old golf cart, however, wasn’t nearly in the hurry that she was. She decided that, as soon as she earned an income again, she would purchase a new golf cart for her parents, as well as one for herself.

Her parents were playing cards at a neighbor’s house, so she went straight upstairs and unearthed her laptop. Her first email was to Hal, thanking him for all his years of support and letting him know that she would not be returning to the firm. Her second email was to the Human Resources Director, giving her formal resignation. When she hit the send button, she expected to feel a pang of regret or a sense of loss. Instead, she felt only a sense of relief. Her last email was to Mark’s parents, to let them know that she was doing much better and that she planned to settle back on Mangrove Island. She knew they would be happy for her.

Next, she emptied the contents of the dresser and set to work filling her Louis Vuitton bags, those remnants of another life. When she reached the black velvet box, she didn’t open it for a somber inspection like she normally would. Instead, she stuffed it between two sweaters to keep it secure during the short journey. She intended to keep the ring in honor of Mark and their marriage. She knew that Tyler was the kind of man who would understand and not feel threatened by its presence. She also packed the infant Santa suit in the hope that, if she were to get pregnant again, the third time would be the charm. The last item to stow was, for her, the most significant. The gift of hope. Ever so carefully she placed the bottle of Dom Perignon on top of her belongings. Alexis was ready to trade in the burn of her whiskey for the tickling fizz. Tonight she planned to pop the cork and celebrate her new life with Tyler.

Alexis wrote her parents a quick note and told them that she’d bring dinner to their house tomorrow and that she hoped it would be okay if Tyler joined them. She’d tell them about the engagement in person. She slung a bag over her shoulder, rolled her suitcases to the awaiting golf cart, and lifted them inside.

All the way to the bungalow, she pondered her good fortune. Never did she imagine that she would end up back where she started, that she would grow to enjoy island life, meet an amazing man, and fall in love again. A few months ago, it didn’t seem possible. She thought she deserved to be alone and miserable. Slowly wither and die. Thanks to her time on the island, she found the strength to accept her past and, in doing so, alter her future.

Alexis pulled up in front of the bungalow and studied the outside. She imagined all the happy moments still to come. Maybe a child or two, if they were lucky. Either way, she had three gorgeous nephews to dote on. Her heart surged with hope. Alexis grabbed the champagne bottle and hurried to the front door. She didn’t bother to knock. Instead, she threw open the door and stepped across the threshold, into the sweet embrace of the present.

Thank you for reading
Long Way Home
! I hope you enjoyed reading about Alexis and Tyler’s love story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If so, please help other readers find this book ~

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Turn the page to read a brief excerpt from Far From Home
~

Far From Home
A Mangrove Island novel, Book 2
By: Neve Cottrell

Rebecca Laughlin dug through her suitcase, searching for her bathing suit. She cursed herself for only owning bikinis.

“Where’s a sensible one-piece when you want one?” she grumbled, upending the suitcase and sifting through the contents. She spied the pink, leopard print bikini top and liberated the matching bottoms from underneath her cosmetics bag.

The cruel irony was that the bikini had been a gift from Brad and it was the only swimsuit she’d grabbed in her hurry to flee New York and her philandering boyfriend. Bradley Campbell, the unreformed playboy who’d stolen her heart and then proceeded to stomp all over it six months later. The man she’d been basically living with when she discovered that he was also sleeping with her co-worker. Rebecca hoped the company had a good legal team lined up because Bradley Campbell was a lawsuit waiting to happen.

She inhaled deeply, refusing to rehash the awful events. She was back in her parents’ vacation house on Mangrove Island, a place where she’d spent many happy summers as a kid, and was determined to use this time to get back on her feet. No noisy cars, no dirty subways, no gossiping co-workers and, best of all, no Brad.

Rebecca changed into her bikini, slathered on sunscreen, and went to the shed to retrieve her beloved kayak. If anything could cheer her glum mood, it was the sunshine and fresh sea air of the island.

Caspian Warwick fumbled around the tangled sheets for his watch. He rarely took it off so he knew he must have been more intoxicated than usual. The watch had belonged to his great-grandfather, a Duke of Pembroke like Caspian’s father, and Caspian had no intention of parting with it.

Thankfully, the young woman, Sophie…Sally…something or other, was still sound asleep, judging by the unattractive snoring. Alcohol sometimes had that effect on a woman, even the pretty ones, although Caspian couldn’t say with certainty how pretty this one actually was. He could barely remember what she looked like as he’d already been fairly inebriated by the time they were introduced.

He found his clothes in a pile by the side of the bed and quickly dressed. He wasn’t in the mood for post-coital conversation. Unwilling to be separated from his watch, he dropped to the floor and stuck his hand under the bed, feeling around on the bare floor. His hand closed on something metal and he pulled the watch to safety with a victorious punch in the air.

His companion stirred and he shot to his feet, making sure not to creak any floorboards on the way to the galley for an espresso. That was the trouble with impetuous flings on a yacht, the next morning the fling was still there and he had no choice but to tolerate her presence until they docked at the marina, where he could wave a fond farewell.

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Excerpt: Far From Home